For ten years, we have loved, respected, and supported each other. We've worked hard to build a happy, loving home for ourselves and our children and will continue to work hard to maintain that home. We've promised to be honest and respectful at all times. We've learned to argue without insults, and to address current issues without drudging up past annoyances. It's worked. So far so good.
Love is an interesting thing--now and then I find myself studying it closely; quietly observing its natural rhythms, hide-and-seeks, and peekaboos. There are times when love is palpable, as it bubbles up from within, and there are times when it somehow reaches me from outside of myself. That one must be from you and the kids. And other times, it hides masterfully. I can't see it, can't hear it, can't smell it or feel it...but because I have come to know it, I trust that it is still there.
There was a time when this vanishing of love unnerved me. I feared that the void was real, that it was a true reflection of our dying union. But I stayed calm. You stayed sure. I believed in you and your certainty, even if my belief was shaky. I waited it out the first time it happened. And I learned that we were absolutely fine. Better than fine. We still loved each other. We still intended to be together for as long as life still moved us. I learned that love isn't some 'thing' that rules us, or that wills itself upon us in random whims of toying. I learned, through patience and trust, that we are the creators, keepers, and nurturers of our love. It does not exist outside of us. It does not choose to bless us with its presence. It does not exist without us.
Now I know that a love that begins as passion, attraction, need, grows both stronger and weaker with time, care, and attention. The passion and need weaken, giving way to a less urgent but far stronger sense of comfort and trust. The attraction evolves into a deeper appreciation of all the characteristics that make us unique, that shape us. We know each other. And that knowing can be trying at times. Love isn't one-sided. It isn't all about the joys without the struggles. Love includes the things we've learned about each other that aren't so appealing, that don't fit into our individual 'ideal.'
Secretly, I have wondered sometimes, if we would survive for all of our differences. My classical guitar drowned out by your aggressive explicit rap; my book-a-week habit silencing your talk about car customizing or what kind of insulation to use in the basement; my daily workouts challenging your 12-pack nights; my early mornings stomping on your sleep-til-one. But then, I'd take a step back, a step to the side, squint my eyes just so, and look again. From this new perspective, I could see that our differences did not define us. Our differences were ours to keep individually, and they should not threaten what we had built together.
Marriage, I am learning, is not a dictator demanding all things equal. Marriage, for us, is an opportunity to continue nurturing our individual needs, joys, interests, while supporting each other, encouraging each other, with the promise that we will not hold each other back just because we are together. Marriage allows us to pursue those independent goals with the support of someone who loves us and wants to see us happy and successful. Marriage is, equally, the chance to share the work and rewards of our common goals: love, family, home, life.
While I have secretly wondered about our survival, and have quietly endured the apparent absence of love, I have also known the opposites of these. As real and frightening as these negatives are, their contradictory positives have been more steady and frequent realities. We never let a day pass without showing affection, professing our love, and wishing each other well when we part. I always know that I am loved and that you are going to help me achieve what I set out to do. You always know you are loved and that I will do what I can to make your way easier. Sometimes we adore each other, sometimes we ignore and focus on the chores. All of it is right and good.
Marriage, then, is our life. We walk through this world, hand in hand, taking on all of the challenges and pleasures we choose and encounter. We walk as partners, taking turns leading, following, being the wise, strong, kind one, and being the ignorant, weak, selfish one. We know and accept the moments of joy and ease just the same as those of hurt and struggle. We know we are safe to experience life, to make mistakes, to forget to pay attention now and then without losing our partner.
A friend once said to me, "Life is hard and doing it alone is sometimes scary. Having someone to help you through life is a gift." We have that gift; we each give and receive that gift. I am grateful and I know you are, too, because you tell and show me so. My dear husband, thank you for staying the steady course with me and never letting the tumult of life pull us apart. I love you.
